


Dirty Laundry

by Mntsnflrs



Series: Clothes and Company [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of homophobia, Minor Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Minor Kim Jungwoo/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Miscommunication, johnten... absolute dumbasses whomst i adore, no braincells in this fic lads, some pretty heavy topics, supportive friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 19:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18430481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mntsnflrs/pseuds/Mntsnflrs
Summary: “He’s the college sweetheart,” Jungwoo says, searching Ten’s eyes desperately. From his expression, Ten is guessing he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. “Just be careful, okay? He’s...”“Straight?” Ten asks. “I already knew that. We’re just friends.”“You have a way of persuading people that they’re not just straight, and we both know that,” Jungwoo says. “All I’m saying is that if you really are such good friends, don’t turn him into one of your conquests because you’re scared of your own feelings.”-This is a sequel but can be read as a stand alone!





	Dirty Laundry

Ten meets Johnny at a frat party.

He’s drunk on whiskey and warm, gross beer, which makes for an overall disgusting combination and leaves a sluggish taste in his mouth, but it’s worth staying around for the entertainment alone. Straight dudes are just... hilarious.

Some huge football guy nudges Ten’s shoulder and nearly sends him through the window. “Hey.”

“Yes?”

The guy blinks down at him in that way that they all do, like they’re just not quite sure of anything anymore. Like they can persuade themselves that just one dude doesn’t count, that they’re still their previous levels of sincere _no homo_. “You gay?”

“What gives it away?” Ten asks, plucking the beer bottle from the guy’s hand and taking a sip, just to draw attention to his mouth. “Is it how good my ass looks? Or maybe my eyes. Everyone says my eyes give me away.”

He’s big and blonde and Ten can tell from the accent he’s American, which is fun. Interesting, at the least. Is he the one that made a girl cry earlier? Maybe. He looks like it. His beer tastes even worse than usual, but that’s fine. It’s all for the sake of the game, and Ten intends on winning.

“I think it’s your ass.”

He laughs. “Of course it is.”

“I’ve been watching you most of the night.”

He cocks his hip, lowers his lids so that his gaze is hooded. “Yeah?”

“You know how to make your way through a room.”

It helps that he knows about thirty of the fifty guests, and that he’s pretty popular with them. Even weird sport bros don’t mind a gay guy if he can make shitty jokes and laugh about weed. In exchange, Ten gets free alcohol and a chance to fuck with the guys that used to push him around and call him an ugly fag. He’s not above petty revenge.

He takes another sip of the gross beer. “I know a lot of things. More than you could guess at.”

“Yeah?” he presses closer. “What’s your name?”

“Ten.”

A small laugh. “Weird name.”

“I’m a weird guy.”

“I can imagine.”

They’re very close now, Ten almost against the window, the guy’s head framed by the light behind him so that his face is almost entirely veiled. It might be the alcohol, but Ten is struggling to make out his features. Maybe he’s just so ugly that his vision is trying to spare him. “You got a name?”

“George.”

“I _knew_ you were American.”

Another laugh, this one quieter, almost drowned out by the ringing of the music. “You’re not Korean either, right?”

“Thai.”

“Sweet. I love Thai food.”

Okay. That’s fine. Thai food? Like, the whole country’s cuisine? “Me too.”

“You wanna go somewhere quieter, Ten?”

“Sure.” George leads him out of the crowded room, and Ten stumbles over his own feet, but manages to keep up. He must have drunk even more than he realised. “Did you make a girl cry earlier?”

George laughs but doesn’t stop walking through the halls. “Yeah, but it wasn’t a personal thing. She’s been whining about me to her friends for ages, but she was pretty ugly. I needed to let her down gently.”

Ten fights his urge to spit in George’s pretty blue eyes. “It didn’t look gentle.”

“Believe me, it could have been worse.”

They reach cold air outside of the building, and Ten’s head clears a little, though his vision is still weird. He’s beginning to think that it really isn’t worth it with George the fucking American. Usually he enjoys the company a little, but George is... entirely fucking gross. Ten groans and sucks in a lungful of air. “Dude, I think I’m too drunk for this. I’m probably just gonna head home.”

George cocks his head, smile fading. “I’ll walk you back.”

“It’s fine, thanks.”

“No, I insist.” George steps closer and puts a heavy hand on Ten’s shoulder, expression still serious. “It would be awful if anything happened to you.”

He’s suddenly painfully aware that he’s outside with this huge boulder of a guy, and they’re alone. The sounds of the party are faint, and all the nearest windows are dark, the rooms behind them empty and silent. “I’m going to go alone. Thanks for the offer, but I’m not taking it.”

George presses closer, his breath hot and heavy. Ten’s skin prickles. “Funny, I thought guys like you wanted to be bossed around by a hot dude with big muscles.”

“I’m going to give you one warning to back off, and this is it,” Ten says quietly.

George laughs. “You think I'm going to listen to a bitch like you?" He shoves Ten back against the wall, but seems to forget his own strength because Ten's skull cracks against the brick with a sickening noise and a shoot of agony.

“You’d be fucking surprised,” Ten hisses, then launches his right leg directly into George’s balls.

It would be comical if he didn’t feel so sick, the way George’s eyes widen and for a second there’s only silence, until he releases an inhuman screech and doubles over.

Ten knees him in the face then kicks him onto his side, then kicks him again. He can barely see, his limbs feel like fucking paper, but he focuses on the screaming. “You don’t fucking hurt people you piece of _shit-“_ he punctuates it with another kick “- and you don’t fucking call a sweet girl ugly and make her cry in public.” He kicks again, then stumbles back and falls on his ass, panting, staring at George, who is writing on the ground, groaning pathetically. “Idiot. Fucking disgusting. Do you have your phone?”

George doesn’t answer, unsurprisingly, but Ten can see it in the back pocket of his jeans, so he crawls over and pulls it out, then kicks George again until he complies when Ten uses his thumb print to unlock the screen. There's blood on the wall and he can feel it dripping down his neck as he fades in and out of reality.

Before he can do anything else, the window a couple of floors above them opens and a head sticks out. “Did I hear yelling?”

Ten looks up, but he can’t make out more than a shadow. “He hit me,” he manages to call. “I need – can you see?”

“Can I see?”

“I need to call his parents, but I can’t see.”

“Dude, wait there and I’ll be down in a second.” The head retreats and then returns a second later. “I actually just microwaved a pizza, do you want some? I can bring it down.”

“Sure,” Ten says. He’s definitely close to passing out, but at this point adrenaline is keeping him going.

The guy comes down a minute or so later, true to his word with a plate of pizza in one hand, a jacket in the other. He kneels down next to Ten and puts the plate on the floor. “Hey,” he says gently. “It’s pretty cold down here; do you want my jacket to keep warm?”

“Thanks,” Ten murmurs, trying to focus. “I’m gonna pass out soon, can you just – find his parents in his contact list for me? Please?”

“Sure,” the guy says, exchanging his jacket for the phone. “I rang security on my way down, they should be here soon. Do you want anything else?”

Ten shakes his head and takes the phone back, listening to it ring until a sleepy woman picks up and says, “George? Is that you?”

And of course she’s speaking English. It’s hard enough to speak in Korean while he feels like this, English feels like torture. “Hello,” he manages. “My name is Ten, and your son just tried to take advantage of me. I kicked him in the balls and then in the face and stomach numerous times, and the campus security is on its way to come and record the incident. I need you to know that whoever you think you raised, your son George - “ he breaks off and coughs, turning to the side. He tries not to panic. The woman is silent. “Your son is fucking awful, but he didn’t realise I have a black belt so I kicked his fucking ass. My point is that he could have done this to anyone, but I’d rather it were me than some innocent girl who is out there looking for love.” He hangs up before she can reply, then with his remaining strength throws the phone at George. It bounces off his ass.

“Hey,” the guy next to him says gently, a hand on his shoulder. “I know this whole scenario is whack, but you should probably eat some pizza and soak up whatever is lingering in your stomach so that you can stay awake.”

“I think I’d choke,” he replies, eyes closing again. His voice is starting to slur. “You’d have to feed me it like a mother bird.”

The guy laughs. “What’s your name, baby bird?”

“Ten.”

“Ten? Odd name.”

“You wouldn’t be able to remember my Thai name.”

“Try me.”

“Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul.”

A pause. “Damn. Can you repeat that?”

He laughs tiredly. “I don’t think I can right now, I can’t feel my tongue or my brain. I hit my head pretty hard.”

“I’ll wait with you here until security get here, and vouch for your story.”

“Thank you, mother bird.”

“Johnny.”

“What?”

“My name is Johnny.”

Ten groans. “Another fucking American?”

He passes out before Johnny can reply.

 

-

 

Johnny is there when he wakes up in the back of the campus security’s offices, a nurse on one side of his cot, taping a needle of translucent fluid to the inside of his arm.

Johnny lifts the plate of pizza sheepishly. “You hungry, baby bird?”

Ten can actually see him now, in all of his American glory, with his stupid floppy hair and pouty mouth and cold pizza. “Fuck off.”

Johnny laughs. “How do you feel?”

“Like death. My foot hurts.”

The nurse gives him an unimpressed look. “You could have broken your toes with the force of the kicks you left on your assailant. He’s handcuffed in the other room.”

“Am I gonna be arrested?” Ten asks pathetically. “I’m too pretty for prison; it’s a waste of my face to be locked away.”

Johnny laughs again, like he actually finds Ten amusing or something. “They found some cameras outside near George, so they’re testing the tapes now, and I gave a statement. I don’t think anything is going to happen to you, so don’t worry. Just focus on feeling better, okay?”

Ten nods and pouts, but he waits until the nurse leaves to say, “I’m hungry now, can I have some of the pizza please?”

Johnny lights up. “Sure!”

They share the pizza in near silence for a while, until Johnny wipes his mouth with his sleeve and asks, “Why were you at that party, dude? Doesn’t seem like your kind of crowd.”

“How would you know what my kind of crowd is?”

“Fair enough. I just meant that they’re all assholes, and you seem nice.”

“Oh.” He deflates slightly. “Thanks, I guess. If I’m being honest with you, I don’t like any of them. I just go to send them into gay crisis because it makes me laugh.”

“Harsh.”

“Not really. I only ever pick the ones with a reputation for being horrible.” Ten shrugs. “Tonight I hit the jackpot, apparently.”

“Still dude, that seems like a dangerous game to play.”

“I’m not scared.”

“That is very obvious,” Johnny says, frowning slightly. “But you should take better care of yourself. Revenge and stuff like that isn’t worth your safety and happiness, you know?”

It isn’t the moment Ten realises he’s in love with Johnny Seo, but if he looks back, it’s probably the beginning. That moment, while he’s coming down from a concussion or something, sharing cold pizza in the back of the security building with the stranger that didn’t save him, but watched him save himself.

 

-

 

Somehow, they become friends.

Friends, while Johnny sticks with Ten while he speaks to the university Dean about the situation, clears his name and demands an increase in campus violence awareness.

Good friends, while Johnny tags along with Ten to the stupid frat parties and always intervenes at the perfect moment to ruin Ten’s plans, persuading him to dance instead.

Best friends, when he realises that the parties really aren’t worth his time, and he’d much rather spend an evening watching films and eating junk food with Johnny is his tiny dorm.

 

-

 

He’s dancing with Jungwoo in the rented studio one day when Johnny comes over to throw Ten a box of food.

“Figured you’d forget to eat, like you always do,” he says with a wink.

Ten laughs. “Thanks. You wanna stay for a while and hang?” he points to Jungwoo, who is watching with interest. “This is my roommate, Jungwoo.”

Johnny waves. “Hi!” He addresses Ten, “”But sorry, I have to get to class. You know how it is when you study a real major.”

Ten flips him off, still laughing. “Yeah, go back to staring at numbers and flicking through Tinder under the table, asshole.”

“As always. Shake your ass and have a good day. Nice to meet you Jungwoo!”

“Likewise,” Jungwoo says faintly. As soon as Johnny has left, Jungwoo rounds on Ten with an evil expression reserved for him alone. “Johnny Seo? Your perpetual boner has been for Johnny Seo?”

“I have so many problems with what you just said,” Ten says, brow crinkling. “But I’ll start with, what?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you mooning like a princess trapped in a tower, waiting for prince charming.”

“We both know that you’re the princess here, sweetie.”

“Maybe so, but Ten, Johnny Seo? _Really?”_

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“He’s infamous on campus. You know how many girls have weird bedroom shrines in his honour? With scented candles, photos, and incense? I mean... I don’t know actually, but I’m guessing the number is abnormally high considering the number of college shrines on a national scale.”

“Jungwoo, you're speaking out of your ass even more than me, and that’s saying something,” Ten says gently, putting his hands on Jungwoo’s shoulders. “I love you, but you’re confusing me.”

“He’s the college sweetheart,” Jungwoo says, searching Ten’s eyes desperately. From his expression, Ten is guessing he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. “Just be careful, okay? He’s...”

“Straight?” Ten asks. “I already knew that. We’re just friends.”

“You have a way of persuading people that they’re not just straight, and we both know that,” Jungwoo says. “All I’m saying is that if you really are such good friends, don’t turn him into one of your conquests because you’re scared of your own feelings.”

He laughs nervously, trying to brush off the fact that Jungwoo is way too good at stripping him down to his vulnerable core. “Shut up, idiot. I wouldn’t do that.”

Jungwoo bites his lip, still looking for something in Ten.

But he’s tired of people for looking for something in him that just isn’t there, so he turns back to the mirrored wall and starts dancing.

 

-

 

Months later, Ten sits in a suit in front of Kim Doyoung, who, despite being the employer, is dressed better than his employee candidate, his hair perfectly parted and his glasses perched on the end of his nose.

“So you want to work here?”

“I’m really passionate about books. And customer service. And... you know. Reading?”

Doyoung’s gaze is steady and incredibly judgemental. “At least I know that if I employ you, you won’t be able to lie to me, because not one word of that was convincing.”

“I’m a student and I need money, okay? And the shop is cute. I like it here.”

“You know Jungwoo?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. I hired him yesterday.”

“He can vouch for me!” Ten hopes, anyway.

“He already has.” Doyoung shuffles the stack of job applications. “He says that despite your laid back attitude, you’re incredibly hard working and passionate. That you’re loyal to a fault and very punctual. Does any of that ring true?”

“I mean...” Ten takes a gamble, “If you hire me, you can find out, right?”

Doyoung cracks a small, veiled smile. “You start on Monday. Ten thirty sharp, if you’re even a minute late I _will_ notice.”

“Yes Sir,” Ten says, ecstatic. “Thank you so much for the opportunity.”

“Don’t ever call me Sir, Doyoung is fine.”

“Then thank you, Doyoung.”

“You’re welcome, Chittaphon.”

“Uh, can you call me Ten please?”

Doyoung cocks his head. “Fine. It’s a shame though, Chittaphon is such a pretty name.”

Ten laughs. “Are you flirting with me?”

Doyoung’s face morphs, like Ten has just shoved half a lemon in his mouth and forced him to suck. “Absolutely not. Just because I’m gay and think you’re charming for some reason doesn’t mean I can’t see that you’re much more trouble than you’re worth. Make sure you aren’t late on Monday, Ten, or I will have to – how do kids say it these days? I’ll have to beat your ass.”

He laughs again, surprisingly, and feels even happier leaving the store than he had when he’d been sent the email requesting an interview.

Johnny is slouched outside in his double denim combo, flicking through Tinder, as always. He looks up when Ten steps outside and says, “Well? Celebration weed or commiseration weed?”

“Celebration.”

He lights up. “Yes, I knew you’d get it!” he envelops Ten into a warm, nice smelling hug that lasts just a little bit too long, and Ten tells himself he doesn’t relish every second. “Well done, baby bird.”

He smiles into Johnny’s neck. “Thank you, prince charming.”

 

-

 

He lasts almost an entire year without realising the attraction, which is wild considering his track record.

Yeah, Johnny is hot. He’s tall and well muscled with the right amount of softness, and his penchant for leaving his hair just slightly too long in the front is cute as hell. He dresses well and treats everyone with the same kind of respect and manners than speak of a good background. He knows where to get good weed, he walks Ten home if they go out clubbing together, he always picks up the phone when Ten calls, just in case there’s some kind of emergency. He’s an idiot at times, but it’s always something that ends in hilarity, like when he accidentally facetimed Ten mid-fuck, and Ten had woken up to the sight of Johnny’s armpit and the sound of a girl’s moans. He’d laughed loudly enough to scare them both and then hung up, still laughing.

Then one day while they’re sat in a local park, both high, surrounded by friends and strangers alike, Johnny turns to Ten in the low light, a small smile across his mouth, and it’s like getting sucker punched in the stomach.

Johnny nudges him. “You okay dude?”

“Yeah,” Ten says quietly. “I... I think I’m more tired than I realised. Gonna head home.” He feels sick.

“Cool, I’ll walk you,” Johnny says, standing and offering a hand to help Ten up onto his feet.

“You don’t have to Johnny, just stay here and hang with everyone else, I’ll be fine.”

Johnny makes a funny face and shakes his head. “What would be the point in staying here without you? Don’t be stupid.”

So they walk together in the evening sunset, and Ten kind of wants to scream. Johnny walks too close, sometimes bumping Ten’s shoulder, sometimes smiling over at him when it happens.

“You wanna come to mine and watch a movie?” Johnny asks after a few minutes of silence.

“I’m too tired.”

“Since when has it ever bothered you to fall asleep during a movie and stay over?”

He can’t think of an argument for that. “Fair enough.”

“So. You coming?”

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he shoves them into the pockets of his jacket.

He doesn’t know what to do with his expression, so he looks at the ground and ignores Johnny’s questioning glances until they’re inside his messy dorm room, squashed together on the tiny bed, and Ten is kind of forced to answer when Johnny asks, “What’s up? You’ve been weird all evening.”

Ten shrugs, toeing his shoes off so that he can kick them to the end of Johnny’s bed. He’d ask for some sweats so that he can get out of his jeans like he always does, but it doesn’t feel right this time.

“Ten.”

He fiddles with his phone and wonders if it’s worth ringing Jaebeom to see if he wants to hook up.

“Ten?”

“What?”

Johnny is staring at him, too close. His phone pings from the table, and Ten can see it’s a tinder message from someone called Yoonmi. “Ten, what the hell is going on?”

“You have a message.”

“Who cares?” Johnny asks. “You’re more important.”

He knows it’s wrong.

He knows he’s making a terrible decision, if he can even call it a decision.

It doesn’t feel like his choice when he puts a hand on Johnny’s chest and feels the stuttering beneath his shirt and skin.

He doesn’t want this, but he _does._

Johnny looks at him with his pretty dark eyes. “Ten?”

“If I kissed you, would you push me away?” he whispers.

Johnny isn’t a conquest; he isn’t a victory trophy, a subject of revenge, mockery, disdain –

He’s just Johnny.

The guy that feeds Ten when he forgets to feed himself, the guy that’s got so much love for his friends that all of his relationships fail because he doesn’t know how to replicate that intimacy with his girlfriends.

He’s Ten’s best friend.

“No,” Johnny murmurs. “I wouldn’t.”

So Ten leans over slowly, watching the minuscule movements in Johnny’s face, waiting for a sign of fear or discomfort or anything that would give him an excuse to move back, to laugh it off, to pretend like the evening hadn’t happened. Johnny just looks at him with his familiar, steady gaze, and his eyes don’t close until their lips are pressed together softly, gently, the sweetest kiss Ten has ever felt.

Johnny sighs into Ten’s mouth, and instinct takes over.

He doesn’t know what to do with Johnny, but he knows what to do with a man.

He groans and swings a leg over Johnny’s waist, pressing closer, licking the seam of Johnny’s lips until they open further, until Johnny’s hands are curling around Ten’s waist and his long fingers are digging in, making him grunt, making energy race down his spine, his breathing turning unsteady, his heart stuttering.

 _“Fuck,”_ Johnny pants, lifting his mouth away to trace his hot lips down the column of Ten’s neck, nipping gently, making him shiver as arousal begins to pool in his stomach. “Ten, you’re-“

He shifts foreword until they’re pressed together, and it’s almost jarring to realise Johnny is hard too.

He gazes down, mouth open and panting, as Johnny looks up with a red face as if embarrassed.

Ten’s mouth is watering. “You want me to blow you?”

Johnny’s eyes widen and his blush deepens. “Ten...” he trails off, clears his throat. “I know I’ve never explicitly, said this, but you know I’m not gay, right? I-“

Ten pretends his heart doesn’t break a little, kissing Johnny again to cut off whatever else he was going to say. “It’s fine,” he murmurs, unbuttoning Johnny’s jeans. “They’re never gay.”

Johnny’s eyes shutter. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay. Whatever you wanna do.”

He’s a coward.

A coward and a pitiful excuse for a human, not worth Johnny’s fucking time.

Still, while he’s hearing moans that he’s caused, while he’s gazing down at Johnny’s blessed out expression as he rides him, as their fingers link and their foreheads press together and they kiss, open and wet, it’s easier to pretend he’s worth something.

With his eyes closed it’s easier to pretend that he’s worth Johnny.

 

-

 

He goes to dance littered in hickeys, and Jungwoo looks at him with grief. “Oh Ten,” he says softly, full of anguish.

“Don’t,” Ten replies, not making eye contact. “It isn’t worth your concern.”

 

-

 

And as useless as it is, he can almost convince himself that nothing has changed.

They still hang out all of the time.

Johnny facetimes him by accident all of the time, and they still laugh about it.

He visits during work, brings Doyoung pie when he can, practices dancing with Ten and Jungwoo and the others in the class when he gets the time.

They’re still best friends.

They’re still best friends, except now when they go clubbing, they go home together, and Johnny fucks Ten on the couch, in the kitchen, against the wall, and then sometimes, but rarely, on the bed.

They don’t really talk about it, because what is there to say?

Johnny still goes on countless dates.

He still fucks women.

Ten still goes to stupid parties and makes eyes at the assholes that would probably still have gay people killed if they could.

They’re best friends, and sometimes they have sex.

It’s just what they do.

 

-

 

Until Johnny gets a girlfriend.

He breaks the news over text, in a simple but impactful message that reads, _Hey dude. Yunwoo and I are gonna go exclusive and see how it works out, so I’m gonna have to stop messing around with you. That cool? You’re still my number one bro._

 _That’s fine,_ Ten replies, because he has no right to say anything else.

He turns his phone off after that, and sits on the edge of his bed, with his hands folded in his lap. He thinks about his life. What makes him happy? Dance. Friends. Johnny. Good food. Fashion. Johnny. Family. Johnny.

He spends most of his time with Johnny.

That’s normal, right? Doing everything with your best friend?

Dancing? Partying? Meals? Bowling? Sleeping? Fucking?

It’s totally normal, except now some of that is going to go to Yunwoo instead of Ten.

But that’s normal too, right? He should be happy for Johnny. He should be happy that his best friend has found a girl that wants to stick around and make him happy.

So when, a couple of weeks later, and he’s seen Johnny exactly three times, he agrees to meet Yunwoo.

“It’s important to me that you both get along, baby bird,” Johnny says while they play basketball on the old court at the back of the old playground where Ten had first realised just how beautiful Johnny was inside and out.

Ten grunts and shoots. He misses. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll meet her.”

But he wants to hate her.

He _does_ hate her.

They meet outside of a restaurant that Johnny had always complained he could never afford to eat at, and immediately Yunwoo envelops Ten in a flowery hug. Her hair is short and bouncy and her smile is wide and genuine. She’s shorter than Ten, barely reaches Johnny’s shoulder when she retreats back to his arm, still smiling widely. “Ten, it’s so good to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you!”

No, he doesn’t hate her.

He can’t.

She’s sweet, bubbly, intelligent – she talks all the way through the meal, and Ten does his best to keep up. She’s too nice for him to hate, but that just means his irrational, horrible feelings have no one to land on other than himself, because he could never hate Johnny.

He excuses himself early, “I’m feeling kind of unwell, but you guys enjoy the rest of your date, okay?” and though Johnny shoots him a look of concern, he doesn’t say anything.

Ten runs back to his dorm and bursts into Jungwoo’s room.

Jungwoo looks up from his notes, and all it takes is that one glance and he’s out of his chair and guiding Ten to the bed. “Get in and ready yourself for the cuddle of a lifetime,” he says softly. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate, you just settle down and have a cry if you need to. I’ll only be a shout away, okay?”

He tries to answer, to say thank you, but the only thing that comes out is a pathetic noise that isn’t quite a sob, but is more like a death rattle. The next thing he knows, he’s crying into Jungwoo’s sheets, harder than he’s cried about anything, and when Jungwoo returns with their drinks, snuggles up to him and asks what’s wrong, he doesn’t have an answer.

He doesn’t have the right to cry about this, he doesn’t have the right to feel like this.

But that’s too hard to admit, so he cries, and Jungwoo holds him and strokes his hair back and dabs at his wet cheeks with a tissue when his face finally emerges from the sheets.

“Ten, you can’t live like this forever,” he says. “I can’t watch you keep hurting yourself like this, you can’t do this to yourself.”

“I can,” he says thickly. “I can.”

 

-

 

Two weeks later, and he’s smoking in the playground with Johnny again.

“Yunwoo broke up with me,” he says, blowing out a lungful of air.

Ten tries not to show too much eagerness when he turns and asks, “Oh? How come?”

Johnny shrugs. “I don’t really know. She said my heart wasn’t in it, that I never focused on her properly or something. She asked if we’d ever been in a relationship. Isn’t that funny?”

Ten chokes on his blunt and pretends the water in his eyes is because of that. “Hilarious,” he manages past the fracturing in his chest.

 

-

 

They go back to Johnny’s apartment, watch a film, and then fall asleep.

It hurts more than if they’d fucked, because Ten just lies there next to Johnny, listening to him breathing, trying to think of how to rest his head on Johnny’s chest without waiting him, wondering what the reaction would be if he tried it and Johnny _did_ wake up.

They have sex in the morning, and things aren’t back to normal, but they’re back to _their_ normal.

That’s something, right?

This is happiness, right?

 

-

 

Johnny rings him at half one in the morning the following Tuesday, which is a weird day to ring someone in the witching hours.

Ten is almost annoyed, until he hears how slurred Johnny’s voice is. “Ten? I think I made a mistake.”

He panics. “What’s happened? Were you shot? Are you hurt? Is someone dead?”

“I was at a party and some dudes... I just... can you come pick me up?”

“Of course,” he says, already struggling out of bed. “Send me your location, okay?”

He hangs up and dresses, then calls an uber and rummages through his wardrobe until he finds his stash of emergency money in case Johnny needs bail or something.

As it turns out, he doesn’t need bail. He’s sat alone on a bench near a convenience store, blood dripping from his nose, knuckles bruised. He smiles a little as Ten clambers out of the uber and runs to him.

“What the hell have you done to yourself, dumbass!” Ten says, cupping Johnny’s face and using one of his sleeves to dab at the blood, eyes roaming for any other hidden injuries.

“Got into a heated discussion,” Johnny says, looking up at Ten. “I’m fine now, but there’s a girl working in the convenience store alone, and a big guy like me covered in blood might freak her out. Could you go in and get me some first aid shit?”

“Yeah,” Ten says, pulling away. “Wait here. If you move a muscle I’ll kill you.”

Johnny laughs tiredly. “You got it, baby bird.”

So he runs in and gathers way too many bandages and ointments, and the woman behind the till sighs and she rings up the cost. “Tell that young man outside that he should get his head checked for a concussion, because those boys hit him quite hard. I have the CCTV if you need it to press charges.”

“Thank you,” Ten replies. He returns to Johnny and begins wiping away the blood once more, applying ointment and bandages to open cuts with his cold hands. Johnny’s skin is warm; his familiar scent is tainted with the tang of blood. “What happened? You never fight. You never even raise your voice.”

“It’s nothing,” Johnny says, shaking his head a little, still looking up at Ten. “They were assholes.”

“In what way?”

“The usual. Homophobes.”

Ten pauses, swallowing heavily. “It... it was about me, wasn’t it.”

Johnny catches his hand before he can pull away, squeezing. “I would have been hurt even if it was about a stranger. You can’t say shit like that in this day and age and expect everyone to laugh along with you. Don’t try and blame yourself, okay? I made the choice to confront them, and yeah, the punching wasn’t fun, but I got a few good kicks in. You taught me how to utilise my knees.”

He laughs a little, but his chest hurts. “Stop trying to defend me to people that don’t matter, Johnny. I’d rather you were safe.”

“So you can put yourself in danger for people you don’t know, but I can’t risk myself for you? What kind of logic is that?”

He doesn’t know how to reply without making Johnny angry, so he just shakes his head and goes back to cleaning his cuts with his one free hand.

The skies are clouded, but there’s no wind, and in the silence of the night, it feels like they’re the only two people around.

Johnny doesn’t let go of his other hand.

 

-

 

Jaehyun walks into their lives, shows Doyoung that he’s worth loving, and suddenly Ten can’t get away from the fact that he’s been fucking around with his best friend for almost two and a half years, while the rest of the world is moving on.

They’ve graduated, they work full time, they’re both adults in every sense of the word, and yet Ten still wanders over to Johnny’s apartment in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep, and Johnny opens the door with exhausted but expectant eyes every single time.

The way Jaehyun is with Doyoung is what makes Ten realise just how selfish he lives. Just how much he prevents Johnny from experiencing.

 Doyoung pauses by the cash register, arms full of hardback novels he needs to rebind. “It’s been exactly four days since the last time you made fun of me, and you’ve not pulled out a magazine or your phone even once this shift. What on earth is wrong with you?”

Ten looks up from where he’d been counting money. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me please.”

“I’m fine.”

“Is it about the argument you had with Johnny? If so, that’s not something I want to deal with, so please leave your melancholy for periods that don’t impact company hours.”

It makes him snort, and tells him that Doyoung cares, in the weird way he has. “Honestly,” he says, leaning over to pinch Doyoung’s cheek and make him scowl, “I’m fine. Thanks for the concern.”

_“I’d rather you not talk about having sex with other people at all.”_

_“Why? It’s not like we’re in a relationship. I can fuck whoever I want.”_

_“I know that. I wasn’t saying otherwise, but I think it’s disrespectful to-“_

_“Oh_ _disrespectful?_ _You really think you can talk to me about disrespect when that bitch from dance gets to dry hump you every time we go to practice? You wanna talk to me about disrespect?”_

It lingers on his mind.

Doyoung passes by once more, later in the afternoon. “You need to go home,” he says. “You’re not yourself. I’ll close up tonight.”

Ten shakes his head. “You have a date with Jaehyun, don’t be silly.”

Doyoung blinks slowly. “Jaehyun is very kind. He will understand that I have to postpone our plans because you are upset.”

“I don’t want to cause you-“

“You have never cared about inconveniencing me before. Don’t start now.”

So he goes home, back to his shitty apartment where the heating doesn’t work and the shower has weird mould between the tiles.

He rings Johnny, and it’s the first time he’s heard his voice since they argued.

“Hello?”

“Johnny,” he says. He crosses his legs on the couch and tries to numb himself. “It’s been years since we met, right?”

“Yeah,” Johnny says cautiously. “Almost three years.”

“And... we’ll stay friends, right? For a long ass time?”

“Of course.” His voice softens, “Ten, I’m sorry for how defensive I got the other day.”

“Me too,” Ten says. His eyes are burning, but it’s because he refuses to blink until the whole wretched conversation is done. “Johnny, I’ve been watching Jaehyun and Doyoung for the past couple of days, and they’re cute, right? They look so happy together.”

Johnny sighs, and when he replies, his voice is soft. “Yeah, they look really good together. It’s actually made me do some thinking too.”

“We should stop,” Ten chokes out. “We should stop.”

“... what?”

“The sex. The – the intimacy. I – “ his breathing rattles, but he forces on, “It isn’t fair to either of us, right? Every time you get into a relationship they always say I’m too close, and I don’t want to get in the way of your happiness. I don’t want to keep you from something like what Doyoung has found, you know?” and then, the finishing blow, “And I don’t want you to keep me from finding it, either.”

Johnny is silent for a long period, but when he speaks his voice is neutral, casual, like Ten had just asks if he wants to go watch the latest Marvel movie. “Sure Ten, if that’s what you want.”

He releases his breath and forces his voice not to crack when he says, “So what was it you were going to say?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’ve forgotten, so it can’t have been important. Actually, I have to ring my dad, you know how he gets – I’ll speak to you another time?”

“Sure,” he says. “Take care, baby bird.”

“You too.”

He hangs up.

He sits there for a couple of seconds, and then rings Jungwoo.

“Hello?”

“You were right,” he says. His eyes stay dry, his voice emotionless. Dead. “I couldn’t do this to myself forever. I ended it.”

Jungwoo makes a noise that Ten doesn’t understand. “Oh baby. I’ll come over now, okay? You want snacks? Hot chocolate? You want me to ring Taeil?”

“Can you just come over as soon as possible?” Ten asks. “I don’t... I don’t think I should be alone.”

“Unlock your door honey, I’m already running.”

 

-

 

He holds it together until the weekend, and then he puts on his tightest outfit, lines his eyes and ruffles his hair, and gets totally, completely incoherently drunk.

He goes with distant friends – people from college he’d smiles with in pictures and then never spoken to – and loses them early on. Hours in he’s sat at the bar, trying to ignore the pounding of the club music and the men that try to grab his attention.

“Can I have another whiskey?” he asks the bartender, fishing money out of his pocket.

A big hand rests atop of his own and pushes the money back to his pocket. “I think that’s enough for one night.”

He’s about to launch himself at the stranger, until he realises it isn’t a stranger but Jaehyun, who looks unfairly attractive in jeans with his hair slicked back. “Jaehyun?”

“I think it’s time for you to go home,” Jaehyun says gently. “Come on, let’s go.”

He’s so confused that he allows Jaehyun to lead him, mostly docile, until they’re outside and the cold air hits, and Ten realises that Jaehyun is at a club without Doyoung.

“Where the fuck is your boyfriend, huh?”

Jaehyun frowns. “In... his apartment? At home?”

“Why the fuck are you out partying while Doyoung is waiting at home?”

“Because he hates clubbing. I invited him, but he said he’d rather wait up for me than come. I wasn’t going to force him out of his comfort zone for something as trivial as drinks and dancing.”

“So you just left him there?” Ten spits, “Alone?”

Jaehyun’s frown deepens. “Ten-“

“You know what the last guy he was with said, right? He called him a freak. Right to his face, right in the middle of the store, in front of me, in front of Jungwoo, in front of dozens of customers. He laughed in his face, called him a freak, a bore, and then he left. And Doyoung has been alone since. Until you.”

“You’re good at that.”

It catches him off guard. “Huh?”

“Lashing out so that people will leave you alone to wallow in your own self destruction.” Jaehyun pulls out his phone and quickly types in a number, lifting it to his ear as it rings. “But that won’t work with me.” as soon as the call is picked up, Jaehyun’s expression softens into something vulnerable, open, entirely endeared – and Ten knows it’s Doyoung. “Hey. Yeah, it’s been fun. I know it’s early, but I found Ten at the bar – yeah. Yeah. I will. Are you sure? I could take him – yeah. Okay, I’ll see you soon. Love you too.” He hangs up. “Okay, you’re coming back to Doyoung’s apartment with me and we’re going to smack some sense into that little head of yours.”

“Excuse me?” he asks, and then his drunken mind catches up with the entirety of the sentence, “I’m not going to Doyoung’s apartment, he’d hate that.”

“He’s okayed it with me.”

“Because he knows I’m upset. If I went in there just like that, with no time for him to get used to the idea and no prior warning, he’d be uncomfortable and upset the whole time, and I’d rather be miserable on the sidewalk than have that.”

Jaehyun’s face softens again. “You’ve got really weird priorities Ten, considering your own comfort doesn’t seem to be up there at all.”

A heavy shadow descends over Ten before he can answer, and a familiar, lazy voice drawls, “I have a solution that will suit everyone.”

He turns around to see Yukhei smiling brightly in that annoyingly lovable way he does. “Fuck off you beansprout.”

Yukhei just laughs. “No can do, oh tiny angry man. I have an obligation to the love of my life, and I’m this is my moment to prove my worth.”

Jaehyun nods slowly. “Kun.”

Yukhei nods too, like they’re speaking a secret language. “Exactly.”

“I don’t understand either of you.”

“You go home to Mister Tall, Uptight, and Handsome, and I’ll take Ten with me,” Yukhei says to Jaehyun, disregarding Ten entirely. “I’ve already spoken to Sicheng, Donghyuck, and Mark, and they’re cool with it, I think they’re going back to Yuta’s to annoy him into ordering them pizza anyway.”

“Alright. Don’t screw this up, Yukhei,” Jaehyun warns, before stepping forward briefly to squeeze Ten’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself, okay? Doyoung will have a meltdown if anything happens to you, and none of us want that.” he goes quiet. “Even if you told me to distract me from your own suffering, I’m glad you mentioned his ex. Doyoung isn’t particularly forthcoming with his past, and I can understand why now. I think... we have a lot to talk about when I get home.”

Ten’s stomach drops. “I haven’t fucked up your relationship have I?” Guilt makes the alcohol curdle in his stomach, distil into a sickly syrup. “Oh god, Jaehyun I’m so sorry.”

Jaehyun waves him off. “You haven’t done anything other than give me an excuse to leave early and go and kiss the man I love, so don’t worry. I’ll take care of him, and you... just make sure you take care of yourself.”

Ten nods, but pulls Jaehyun close before he can leave. “If you break his heart like the rest of those bastards, I’ll rip your dick off and feed it to your mother,” he whispers.

Jaehyun laughs loudly and pats Ten on the shoulder. “I appreciate the sentiment, but believe me, there’s a long line ahead of you waiting to do that.”

It’s warming to know that whether he acknowledges it or not, Doyoung has a lot of people that care about him. “Yeah? Who do I have to speak to at the front of the queue?”

“Jungwoo. His was a particularly creative insult, too, something about fingers in orifices?”

It drags a watery laugh out of Ten’s weary body. “Fuck. Jungwoo the angel? Who knew?”

 

-

 

Once Ten is left alone with Yukhei for the first time in his life, he realises that when he isn’t yelling about something stupid, he’s actually... kind of gorgeous.

“Would you fuck me?”

Yukhei looks up from his phone, where he’s using Google maps to get back to his own apartment. “What?”

“I asked if you’d fuck me. Is that what’s happening? Are we going back to yours to fuck?”

Yukhei shakes his head, smiling ruefully. “Don’t get me wrong dude, you’re super hot, but my heart only nuts for Jungwoo.”

“Jungwoo? You know he’s got a boyfriend, right?”

Yukhei’s face falls so dramatically that Ten actually peels pity for the huge idiot. “Doyoung... said he was single.”

“He was single a couple of weeks ago, yeah, but Jungwoo moves fast. He’s looking for his prince charming, you know? Always searching for the love of his life or some shit, and he isn’t afraid to work to get what he wants. If you want anything to do with Jungwoo other than friendship, you have to learn to keep up, because I don’t think he knows how to slow down.”

Yukhei sighs. “I guess I’ll have to put some effort in then. That fucking sucks, dude.”

Ten nods. “I’d drink to that if you weren’t such a loser and actually let me have some fucking alcohol.”

“You’ll feel worse in the morning if you keep drinking, and you’re gonna be waking up early, so you need to stop now.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

Yukhei perks up. “You want a piggyback?”

Ten is drunk, heartbroken, and staring at possibly the only successful beagle-human hybrid. “Of course I want a piggyback.”

So Yukhei carries him back to his mysterious apartment, but Ten is asleep on his shoulder before he’s anywhere near the readily made bed.

 

-

 

He’s woken up at buttfuck o’clock in the morning, and he feels like his brain crawled into a hole somewhere and died before rolling back into his head.

He whimpers and burrows further into the sheets, but they’re ripped from his feeble grasp and the curtains are pulled open, the sudden sunlight making him yell out and shove his sensitive eyes against the cool darkness of the pillow, which is then ripped away from him as mercilessly as the sheets.

“You must be Ten,” a much-too-happy, much-too-loud voice says. “How’s the hangover?”

He mewls like a wet kitten.

“Nice! Breakfast is in five minutes, so get up and head to the kitchen, okay? If you’re not sat at the table by the time I’m dishing up, I’ll bring it in here and force-feed you eggs while I hold your nose closed. Am I understood?”

“Yes,” he groans, still curled in on himself.

“Good. See you in four minutes!”

After a long time blearily blinking at the ceiling and wondering why the hell he exists on the mortal plains of hangovers and suffering, he staggers out of the unfamiliar room and into another unfamiliar room, bigger than his entire apartment with an open plan kitchen at one end and three huge sofas at the other. In the middle of a space sits a large dining table, entirely packed apart from two free seats, both next to Yukhei, who waves at Ten cheerily.

“You survived the night?”

The guy nearest to him snorts into what looks like very sugary coffee. “He looks like he’s been hit by a truck and then reversed over. He’s alive, yeah, but at what cost?”

“Nice to meet you too ,” Ten says, folding himself into one of the free chairs and staring mutely at Yukhei until he gets the hint and leaves the table to pour Ten some coffee. “Thanks.”

The guy considers him before nodding a little and smiling, which is a surprisingly sweet expression. “Sicheng.”

“Ten.”

“Awesome name.”

“I’m an awesome guy.”

“No offence, but you’re friends with Johnny, so I doubt you’re anywhere near awesome.”

His stomach curdles. “You know Johnny?”

“Only through Mark.” He gestures to a boy further down the table with chestnut hair and mischievous eyes. “Mark loves Johnny. Like, a lot.”

Mark blushes. “I just think he’s cool!”

“He’s not cool,” Ten says. “He’s an idiot.”

Mark pouts. “Maybe you’re the idiot.”

“I never said I wasn’t, just that Johnny is too.”

Yukhei returns, whistling, and puts a mug of black coffee down in front of Ten that he does his best to inhale in one mouthful. “Ten, this is Sicheng, Mark, Donghyuck you already know, plus Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun, Chenle, and Jisung.”

“Nice to meet you all,” he mumbles into his glass. “Why the fuck am I here?”

“Because you’re in need of a hearty breakfast and some plain speaking!” a man says, descending upon the table with both arms full of overflowing plates that the other guys descend upon like starving vultures. “Nice to meet you Ten, my name is Kun and I’ll be your father for the day.”

“I have a dad, and he’s pretty good.”

“Well today you have me, and by god above I swore to Yukhei that I would sort you out, so I will,” Kun says, sweet and terrifying and absolutely irrefutable.

Ten just nods meekly and accepts the plate that’s handed over. “Thank you for the food.”

Kun glows. “You’re so welcome! Eat up, okay?”

“Okay.”

He takes a mouthful of food, and realises it’s probably the first time someone has cooked him a meal in years, other than Jungwoo and Johnny. That’s sad.

However, he doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because he looks away from his plate for literally like, half a second, and Chenle steals a slice of his toast. “Hey, eat your own!”

Kun looks up from the grill. “Everything okay?”

“Chenle stole my toast.”

“Chenle would never steal.” Kun looks over to the boy with adoration in his eyes. “He’s my little angel.”

Chenle smiles sweetly at Kun, and then as soon as Kun turns back to the food, he turns to Ten and sticks his tongue out, waving the half eaten toast with a goading expression.

He wants to argue, but surrounded by chattering kids and everyone eating well, he doesn’t have the heart. He passes Jisung his last slice of toast to stop the pleading glances, then eats the rest of the food on his plate while the rest of the guys around him talk about people he doesn’t know and events he’s not invited to.

Eventually, Kun sits down at the table with his own modest plate of food, smiling indulgently at Ten. “They like you.”

“Thanks.”

“No, don’t just say what you know I want to hear while you dismiss what I say. I mean it, they like you. Jisung and Chenle are usually so shy around strangers, but they’re eating off your plate like they’ve known you for years.”

Ten snorts. “Are these your kids?”

“Of course they are!” Kun says, smiling widely. “This is a big city, and even students who are surrounded by friends can feel lonely. I like to make people feel happy and comfortable, and if giving them one good meal a week can help, then who am I to reject them at my door?”

“Weird.”

“Maybe so, but you’re here eating my food, just like everyone else at this table.”

Yukhei nudges Ten with his arm. “You having a fun morning?”

And weirdly enough... he kind of is.

 

-

 

After hours of chatter and yelling and running around, the numbers start to dwindle until it’s just Kun and Ten.

He’s tried to leave a couple of times, but Kun had just smiled at him, and it was so threatening yet somehow pleasant that he just sat, demure, waiting for whatever was coming.

“So Yukhei tells me that you’re going through a rough patch,” Kun says once they’re alone. Ten examines him closely to avoid replying, focusing on the fall of his brown hair, the soft plains of his face, his big hands and gentle yet unyielding aura. “Ten, a conversation takes two people.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, picking at a thread on his jeans. “I just don’t know what you expect me to say.”

Kun sits back, getting comfortable. “Well you don’t have to tell me anything at all, if you don’t want to. We could talk about the weather, shifting politics, or my grandmother’s breakfast recipes you seemed to enjoy so much. I’m not your therapist or your family, so you don’t owe me anything you don’t want to share. I’m just here because your friends are worried about you, and I make a habit of helping people if I can.”

“I just...” Humiliatingly, he feels his eyes begin to sting. “I just don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“No one ever does,” Kun says soothingly. “Do you want to elaborate?”

“I’m in love with my best friend and we’ve been fucking for years, but when Jaehyun and Doyoung... I just realised that I’m holding him back. He’s straight, you know? He could find himself a nice woman and have cuddly babies and be happy, but I don’t know who I am without him anymore.”

“First and foremost, you’re you,” Kun says. “With or without a best friend, who you clearly value, you’ll always be you. Try not to forget that.” he links his fingers and shifts again. “As for the relationship dilemma, I want to know what makes you think he’s straight when he’s been having sex with you for years.”

“He told me right at the beginning that he’s not gay,” Ten replies, bitter. “But I’m selfish and I never really took that into consideration. I was known for it in college, you know?”

“Ten... have you really not considered that your friend could be somewhere between gay and straight?”

“He’s never been interested in dudes.”

“Other than you,” Kun says softly.

One of the tears slips out, and Ten scrubs it away angrily. “That’s just because I’m a bastard that forced it on him though, I don’t count. He was my best friend and I asked him, he didn’t-“

“You asked him, and he said yes.” Kun’s voice hardens suddenly, surprising the upset away. “Don’t be so crude as to take his choice out of what followed, just for the sake of hating yourself.”

Ten just blinks at him.

“Ten, forgive me for saying this, but you’re being an idiot.”

“I’m not good enough,” he says, which is what it draws down to.

“What makes you say that?”

“I just know it, okay?” he snaps. “He’s... kind, and funny, and intelligent, though he doesn’t like people to think he is. He’s a good person, beautiful inside and out, and yeah he can be a dumbass but he’s made to be a boyfriend, a husband, and I’m just made to be the guy you pick up in a sleazy club and forget about the next day.”

“Wow. I would never have thought you had such an opinion of yourself.”

“I know I’m hot, and I know I’m talented. I dance well and I’m good at languages, and I can be funny if I think about it. But I’m not made to be a boyfriend, especially to someone like Johnny.”

Kun’s eyes widen. “You’re talking about Johnny?”

Fuck.

“You know him?”

“Not well; Mark brings him for breakfast sometimes. He seems nice enough.”

Ten nods sadly. “He’s so nice. And his dick is huge.”

Kun’s pleasant smile turns slightly pained. “I didn’t ask, but thanks.”

“Can we talk about something else? Do you wanna fuck me or something?”

“I mean... thank you for the offer, but I’ll pass. I don’t make a habit of taking advantage of emotionally vulnerable people.”

“That’s nice. What do you do, anyway, that’s put you in such a weird scenario?”

Kun smiles again. “I’m an art therapist. I hear you’re a dancer?”

“I work at a bookstore.”

“But you dance too, right? And dance is where your passion lies.”

“I guess.”

“Therefore you’re a dancer.”

“Are you gonna make me paint a sunflower and talk about my emotions?”

“Not unless you particularly want to. I was hoping you’d help me do some of the chores while Yukhei is at work and then we could go down to a studio and do some dancing together.”

“You dance too?” he doesn’t know why he’s surprised; considering Kun has such a solid yet somehow graceful build. It’s just that he looks like he’s made for aprons and freshly baked cookies and cleaning up after unruly toddlers.

“I enjoy dancing a lot, yes. It’s been a while though, so you may have to catch me up.”

“You... you really want to?”

“I do! But first, we should probably wash Yukhei’s bedding, since you managed to somehow drool all over it while you slept.”

He cringes away from the humiliation. “I was in Yukhei’s bed?”

“Yes, he slept on the couch, and I found him there when I got up this morning. He may be a large, giggling man-child, but he has a heart of gold.”

Ten softens. Maybe Yukhei does stand a chance with Jungwoo, if he manages to keep his attention focused. “That’s kind of him.”

“You can thank him by washing his sheets.”

Ten stands up and nods. “Okay.” He feels better than he has in almost a week, now that he has a purpose, even if it is just washing some sheets and teaching Kun some dance moves. “Could I shower here too, please?”

“Of course, go right ahead. I’ll leave you some clothes out too, but I’ll warn you, they’ll be too big.”

“That’s fine, I can roll the sleeves. Thank you.” He’s used to making do with Johnny’s huge sweatpants and hoodies, so whatever Kun shares will be a step up. “I mean it Kun, thank you.”

“And I mean it too, when I say you’re more than welcome. You’re worth the effort.”

 

-

 

It’s a coup.

He should have known.

Jaehyun and Doyoung are waiting in the studio when Ten and Kun arrive, warming up and stretching. Doyoung is doing a terrible job of pretending he isn’t staring at Jaehyun’s ass when he looks up and sees Ten trying to retreat, despite Kun’s vicelike grip on his arm. “Oh no you don’t, Chittaphon, you get back in here and teach us your latest routine like a good friend.”

“It’s my day off, I have no obligations to be in your company.”

Jungwoo bounces in, hot pink legwarmers dwarfing his frame. “Hey guys, glad to see you all! I brought some cake for when we’re ready, is strawberry jam okay?”

Ten turns to Kun, utterly betrayed. “You told me I wouldn’t have to talk about my feelings!”

“You don’t have to talk about anything at all if you don’t want to,” Kun says, dragging him further into the room. “This was Jaehyun’s idea, but it comes with no obligations at all. It’s just a couple of hours doing something you love, surrounded by the people that love you.”

Jaehyun is watching him with a small smile. “What is it you said to me the other week, before Doyoung made a move? It’s time to wake up and smell the adoration, asshole.”

For a few hours, he doesn’t think about Johnny.

It’s a revelation and a heartbreak, twisted into one package, because he enjoys his day, he loves dancing, and Kun is actually really fucking good at it.

They laugh and mess around, and Ten doesn’t feel jealous when Jaehyun pulls Doyoung to the corner of the room to kiss him senseless, he just feels happy. Relieved that Doyoung has found what makes him blush and smile, because he deserves to look so warm all of the time.

It’s hard though, at the same time.

He has a great day, but with the five of them there, dancing and laughing, he feels like there’s a space beside him in Johnny’s shape.

 

-

 

They go for lunch a couple of days later, and Ten wears Kun’s borrowed hoodie so that he remembers to return it once Johnny has to head back to work.

Johnny looks tired, kind of weird, but he smiles when Ten sits down. “Is that Kun’s?”

“Yeah, he said he knew you through Mark. What do you think of him?”

Johnny’s eyes are dark. “He’s great. A kind dude. I’m happy for you.”

Ten’s brow furrows. “...Thanks? I’m happy for you too. Are you gonna have pancakes?”

Johnny always has pancakes and then steals some of Ten’s bacon to eat with them.

“I’m not very hungry today; I might just have a coffee.”

Things are weird, and they’re not _their_ kind of weird. They’re just weird.

Ten doesn’t know what to do about it. He feels like Johnny is slipping through his fingers like sand. “Oh, okay. Do you want some of my bacon?”

Johnny’s smile twists. “No thanks. Not hungry, remember?”

 

-

 

He gets a call the following evening.

“Why did Johhny just threaten me?”

Ten rubs his eyes. He’d been falling asleep in front of the television. “Huh?”

“It’s Kun. Why did Johnny just threaten me?”

“I don’t understand.”

“He just came to my house with Mark and Jaemin, and while the other two were hanging out with Yukhei, Johnny came into the kitchen and told me that if I break your heart he’ll beat me up.”

“I have no idea, man... I really don’t.”

“You sure? He seemed to think that we’re dating.”

“I don’t know where he’d – unless he thought that because I was wearing your hoodie? I really don’t know.”

“Could you speak to him about it please? While I respect his loyalty as a friend to you, it was quite concerning to be pressed against my own microwave and threatened with a rubber spatula.”

“I’ll speak to him,” Ten promises. “I’ll speak to him right now. I’m sorry that this happened.”

“That’s okay, I’m used to idiots. Just clear up any misunderstanding, will you? If Mark can’t bring Johnny for breakfast anymore he’ll be very upset.”

“You’ve got it.”

He hangs up and rings Johnny, but it goes straight to voicemail. Disquiet sits in his stomach too heavily to wait, so he steps into the nearest shoes he has and makes his way through the cool evening air towards Johnny’s apartment, which is messy but much nicer than Ten’s because there’s no scary mould growing in the corners.

Johnny answers the door after a couple of knocks, looking sleepy and disgruntled. “Yeah?”

He’s never had to ask to come in before. “Can we speak?”

“Sure.” Johnny steps back and wanders through to his couch, letting Ten follow at his own pace.

The apartment is messier than normal, and with the amount of takeout dishes it looks like Johnny is trying to farm his own bacteria colony on the countertops. “Jesus dude, what the hell happened in here?”

Johnny scowls. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s dirty. You’re messy, but you’re not dirty.”

“It’s not like I have to impress anyone.”

“You’re telling me you’re okay living like you’re in a garbage disposal unit?”

“Yes.”

Ten sits on the couch next to Johnny. “Don't bullshit me.”

“Just go home okay?” Johnny snaps. “I’m not in the mood to argue with you.”

“When have I ever cared about your mood before starting an argument?”

It doesn't pull a smile from Johnny like it usually would. “Seriously Ten, please. I’m not in the mood.”

He sighs. “I’m here because Kun rang me. Why on earth did you threaten him with a spatula?”

“It was the only thing I could find.”

“You’re deliberately missing the point.”

“Because he needs to be careful with you, okay?” Johnny says, exasperated, angry, pained – he looks _hurt._ “You’re not as flamboyant and as careless and you like people to think, and you’re easily hurt. He needs to know that before anything happens.”

“Anything? Like what?”

“Like breaking your heart!”

“Do...” Ten trails off, genuinely dumbfounded. “Do you really think we’re in a relationship? Like I’d get a boyfriend and not tell you?”

“You were wearing his hoodie!”

“I wear your hoodies all the time!”

Johnny reddens and looks away. “I know. I know.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“He... when you wear someone else’s hoodie – and considering your size, it’s very noticeable when the jumper doesn’t belong to you – it’s like a warning to people that you’re taken. I thought that’s what it was. I thought you were trying to warn me without actually telling me.”

“Are you saying that every time I wore one of your hoodies I was warning people?”

Johnny sighs. “No. I – I was warning them.”

Ten sits back. “What?”

“I wanted people to know you were wearing my clothes so that they wouldn’t come and flirt with you.”

“I don’t understand. Is this the possession thing again?”

“It’s not about possessing you. I just...” Johnny blinks rapidly. His voice comes out almost silently. “It was nice to pretend for a while, is all.”

“Johnny, pretend _what?”_

“That you were mine!” He stands suddenly, shocking Ten. “Can you leave now please? Can you just go?”

Ten stands too, confusion and anger mounting into something terribly fragile that faintly resembles hope.  “You dumbass, explain yourself!”

“No! Why should I? After all this time, waiting for so long – I’m done!”

“You don’t get to say that!” he shouts, eyes stinging. “Years, Johnny, years of this – I need you to tell me what you mean!”

“Everyone knows!”

Ten picks up a pizza box and throws it at Johnny, watching the stale crusts fly everywhere. “What the hell is going on!”

“Don’t throw my takeout at me!”

“I’ll throw whatever I want!” he pulls off his socks and throws them at Johnny. They’re both crying, but Johnny’s heaving chest almost looks like laughter, too. “Johnny Seo, you tell me what the fuck is going on right now before I strip and throw my underwear too!”

Johnny finally laughs, a thick, wet sound, and then he sits on the floor and cries. “I’m in love with you, you stupid twink!”

“I’m not a twink,” Ten says faintly. His legs give way, and he sits too. “Johnny, I’m not a twink and you’re not in love with me. You just – when we were in college and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you... I’ve... this is my fault, I –“

“You didn’t take advantage of me, idiot!”

“I did! You’re straight, and-“

“I’m bisexual! I tried to tell you, but you said that shit about _‘oh none of them are gay’_ and I just thought I was gonna be relegated to a friend that’s sometimes got a useful dick too, so I didn’t correct you.”

“A friend that’s sometimes got a useful dick?” Ten repeats, uncomprehending. “Only sometimes? Do you have impotency problems?”

“I fucking hate you!”

“Don’t” he says, staring at Johnny. “Please don’t hate me. I don’t think I could live with that.”

Johnny sniffs, and there’s definitely snot in his throat when he says, “You could and you would.”

“You’ve had so many girlfriends,” Ten says quietly. “So many girlfriends, and not a single dude. I’m not saying that doesn’t make you bisexual, I just mean –“

“When I was with girls it was easier for me to deal with my emotions,” Johnny says, rubbing his eyes. “I tried with a couple of dudes, but I just ended up comparing them all to you. The first one could dance, but not like you. The second one had pretty hair, but not as pretty as yours. The third one was gentle, like you, but he didn’t make me laugh as much. It was easier to pretend to myself, I guess. I’m done with that now, it hurts too much.”

“Dumbass,” Ten says faintly. “When did you fall in love with me?”

“Are you kidding me? You beat that guy’s ass when we met and then ate my burnt microwave pizza with me. I’ve always loved you.”

“It’s been almost three years,” Ten says. “I thought I was your backup.”

“I thought I was yours.”

“You’re not,” he says. “Everyone else was an excuse not to admit how much I need you. How much I want you, all of the time.”

Johnny looks up, eyes red, face red, pizza crumbs from the crusts scattered on his jumper. “You want me?”

“Idiot, I _love_ you,” Ten says, full of all the yearning he’s felt since he woke up to a saline drip and Johnny’s concerned eyes. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

“Three years,” Johnny says. “We could have been making love instead of fucking for three goddamn years?”

“Absolutely not, because neither of us are Doyoung,” Ten says. “If you want to make love you have to go read a regency novel first.”

“I’m okay with fucking then,” Johnny says. “You really love me?”

“Johnny, I really fucking love you. More than myself.”

“That’s not fair, you’re the best person I know,” Johnny replies. There’s a faint but growing smile on his face, a blooming warmth in his eyes. “But I guess I’ll love you enough for the both of us until you realise that you’re worth your own adoration.”

“You’re such a poet,” Ten says, joking, and then crawls across the floor, driven only by adrenaline and sheer euphoria, to shove his tongue in Johnny’s mouth. “I love you, I love you so fucking much, I’m so sorry for all of this-“

“Me too,” Johnny manages between kisses, “But what’s three years, right? We have the rest of our lives to make it right.”

“Yeah,” Ten whispers, shoving his face into Johnny’s shoulder and pretending he’s not crying. “We need to clean this apartment first though.”

Johnny laughs, collecting Ten in his arms and then standing, holding him. “That’s tomorrow’s problem. I just finished watching Pride and Prejudice, and I’m ready to try making love to you. I want to see if it makes you come harder.”

Ten laughs and cries all the way to Johnny’s bedroom, and then almost loses his mind when Johnny trips in the doorway and throws them both onto the floor.

It’s not perfect, but they’re both too stupid for perfection.

They’re both too happy with imperfect to worry about it.

 

-

 

Ten gets to work twenty minutes late the next day, and is greeted by Doyoung’s entirely unimpressed face.

“Twenty two minutes past your starting time. Do you have an explanation?”

“Johnny fucked me so hard that I couldn’t walk properly,” he says happily, ignoring the outraged gasp of the mother guiding her small child around the store. “My ass is sore, so I had to kind of waddle my way here. You know how it is. Big dick life, right?”

The woman hurries out of the store, dragging her child behind her.

Doyoung closes his eyes and breathes out very slowly. “I’m happy for you both, but you’re also fired.”

“You never mean it.”

“I mean it this time,” Doyoung says, opening his eyes and smiling a little. “I’m incredibly happy for you both.”

Ten smiles. “Thank you. I am too.”

Johnny brings Doyoung a slice of pie at noon, then spends his lunch break whispering _I love you_ ’s into Ten’s ear as he rings up purchases behind the cash register.

“You don’t have to stand so close,” Ten murmurs, “I’m wearing your jumper, remember? No one is going to make a move.”

“This isn’t about jealousy, this is about me wanting to be close to you,” Johnny says. “How about you come over for dinner tonight? We can go somewhere fancy and I’ll pay.”

Ten leans back into Johnny’s chest. “Microwave pizza is fine with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! The week has been wild but I'll get back to every comment I promise, they all mean so much and keep me going!  
> Kudos/Bookmarks/Comments make my day, so thank you and I hope you stick with me for the next work in the series! xo


End file.
